


Nothing Like the Sun

by Akallabeth



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Era, Christmas Shopping, Fluff, M/M, Marius cameo, Multi, courfeyrac is wise in the ways of womankind or at least thinks he is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:35:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28067889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akallabeth/pseuds/Akallabeth
Summary: Joly and Laigle attempt to get Musichetta a New Year's present.
Relationships: Joly/Bossuet Laigle/Musichetta
Comments: 17
Kudos: 19
Collections: Les Mis Holiday Exchange (2020)





	Nothing Like the Sun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [temperamental_mistress](https://archiveofourown.org/users/temperamental_mistress/gifts).



"Have we considered--" Laigle cut off his remark as a walking stick was thrust before him. A breath later, the space in front of him held a speeding coach previously hidden from view.

"That was timely. Been practicing with Enjolras?"

"Not as much as I should", Joly's words turned into a yawn. Laigle made an attempt to brush the splashed mud off his knees (ruining his gloves--again--in the process), before the street ahead of them cleared enough to proceed.

"With the term over, though, I mean to make up the deficit--"

"WIth your schedule", Laigle cut in, "it's a minor miracle you make it home for dinner, much less _canne de combat_ bouts, meetings, and trysts with La Musichetta."

"Truly there aren't enough hours in the day. But with the morning and evening hospital rounds, and lectures..." Joly made an equivocal gesture with his walking stick. "Well, it is what it is. And at least there's two weeks for leisure before term starts again."

"Which just might be enough time to find a present for our patron goddess."

Unfortunately, the next shop did furnish any trinkets of sufficient quality for the lady in question. Nor the next. Nor the one after that.

"Well, that's every jeweler in the neighborhood", Laigle sighed, as they shuffled out of the most recent shop. "Are you still set against a nice bonnet?"

"As though either of us has taste to equal hers in millinery", Joly pointed out.

"We've equal enough taste in other respects." They exchanged smiles. Laigle continued, "What about some new books?"

"I've fallen so far behind contemporary literature that I don't know where to start. Unless you've been keeping up?"

"Alas, lack of funds have stymied my literary ambitions. Theatre tickets?"

"We already go to the theatre every few weeks. That's hardly unique enough for the New Year."

"Have we considered", Laigle began again, just as the dark skies over them finally decided on a light rain, "adopting the Julian calendar? It would at least give us at least another eleven days to figure something out. Or the decimal calendar!"

"We're three months past the New Year in that case."

"Or nine early." Laigle countered. "And that is a much more leisurely deadline."

"Except for the awkwardness that will arise when Musichetta shows up for breakfast on 9 Nivôse with New Year's greetings and thoughtful gifts of her own making." Joly sighed, " and it's not as though either of us has a particular handicraft with which to reciprocate."

"Fine I won't propose anatomical studies and legal treatises as the next idea. And I can see from your look that abandoning the tyranny of calendars in general won't help either. What about gloves?" 

"Got her a pair after our last fight. And to replace the pair your bled on. And the other pair your bled on. And the ones torn in the _Hernani_ incident. And the pair you accidentally incinerated--"

"In fairness, that was the concierge's fault for setting up the lamp improperly--"

"It's just", Joly gestured vaguely with his cane, "I really want this to be a _special_ present, not a repeat of earlier tokens."

"So not another fan?" All of their friends tended to resort regularly to Feuilly's workshop for love-tokens to their various mistresses. Not only was the quality dependable, but it never hurt to patronize one's friends and their radically republican associates.

Joly shook his head. "We just got her one for her birthday, remember?"

Musichetta's birthday _had_ been rather memorable, in Laigle's opinion, though not necessarily for the presents. Though, as he recalled, the fan had been a nice one, with a lovely pastoral scene in rich shades of green that set off Muscihetta's fine eyes to a treat. And, on close inspection, it's possible the classical figures dancing through the Arcadian paradise resembled certain of their friends... But, back to the task at hand.

"Perhaps perfume?" Laigle ventured.

Unfortunately, the first shop they tried was staffed by a staunch Royalist who seemed to recognize Laigle from his past extracurricular excursions with Graintaire. The second shop set Joly off on a coughing fit. The third didn't have anything that suited their needs, and in the fourth nothing suited to Joly's budget. They had, but this time, crossed from the Latin Quarter to the Marais, ventured up past the Temple, and re-crossed the Seine, in a very wet, tiring circuit of the city center. 

"What about confectionary?"

Joly didn't--and wouldn't--glare at his best friend, but it was clear that neither of them really thought that idea was up to standard.

"Some pretty chemises?"

"I think", Joly said slowly. "it's time for drastic action."

Laigle nodded. "So it has come to that."

With one accord, the pair turned off the Boulevard San Michel. With only a short detour by a favorite wine retailer, they made determined progress towards to the Hotel Rue St. Jacques, past the concierge (thanks to Joly's partially-feigned-but-not-really coughing fit and some fast talking by Laigle) and up to a familiar third-floor room.

Joly tapped at the door with his cane.

"Goooood evening, my lovely---" Courfeyrac, opening the door with some ceremony, abruptly cut off the affected tone and broke instead into a wide grin. "Laigle! Jolllly! Come in, come in! Pontmercy, we have guests!"

The mournful Romantic in question, bent over Courfeyrac's pristine-from-lack-of-use law books at the table, looked up and blanched. He recovered momentarily, always glad to see Laigle and apparently relieved to recall that Joly was the not-Combeferre medical student.

In the blink of an eye, Courfeyrac had ushered them both in, poured two more glasses of wine (graciously accepting the bottles Laigle handed over, and situating them on the dressing table that also served as a sideboard), and settled the whole group in various improvised chairs.

"To what do we owe this pleasure?"

"Musichetta" Joly and Laigle chorused together. Courfeyrac nodded sagely, though Marius blushed and started stammering about the late hour while shoving papers into his satchel. 

It was, in fact, nearly 7 o'clock in the evening.

Once the flustered law student had made his escape, Laigle explained the situation:

"We've been everywhere, but we can't find of a suitable New Year's present for the lovely Musichetta."

"The literary one?" Courfeyrac inclined his head with a thoughtful expression. "She of the small hands and feet, well-dressed, with eyes that hold the secrets of the universe?"

Whether from wine or embarrassment, Joly flushed slightly while agreeing that she was the same. Laigle added "She's clever and kind, equal to the three graces at once, and lovelier than a summer morning.

"Have you considered asking Prouvaire to write her a poem?"

Ten hearbeats and several wine-stains later, Joly had successfully saved Bossuet from choking. "I was aiming for something less apocalyptic in nature. In truth, she's simply too perfect to shop for. She has such refined taste in clothing that I dare not buy her a bonnet or mantle, is so well-read that we cannot surprise her with new literature, and too elegant for half the baubles worn around town." 

"And the rest are too expensive." Bossuet added. Joly mimed giving him another mock whack across the back. "Careful, I'm not actually choking this time!"

Coufeyrac considered for a moment. "Silk stockings. Number 2, Rue Vivienne--Au Grand Colbert always has the best selection. Get her a few pretty pairs that will look well with her best dress, and some fine walking shoes from Ashley's. Irma works there, and can probably help with the size."

"Someone already ruled out undergarments", Bossuet observed.

"Ah, but stockings aren't. Not entirely. When stepping into a carriage--or more frequently, over a mud-puddle--a fine stocking and neat boot show the ankle to excellent effect. And your clever, well-dressed friend will know this." Courfeyrac proceeding to expound on his theory--developed from no small amount of research, it transpired, as well as the considered opinions of four very particular and well-dressed older sisters. Ladies prided themselves on neatness and quality in every garment down to the most concealed, while grisettes of good taste and small budgets frequently found it needful to economize on the less visible parts of one's dress. Moreover, shoes and hosiery wear out quite frequently. Some nice stockings, therefore, can be a useful and elegant gift, and rarely prove superfluous. 

"And honestly", Courfeyrac continued, gesturing towards a neatly-darned hole on Laigle's jacket, "your Musichetta clearly has some experience mending stockings. If nothing else, a reprieve from that chore will surely be appreciated." 

The truth of such a statement being self-evident, the friends celebrated this resolution with an impromptu domino tournament. And the other two bottles of wine. 


End file.
